The Degrading of Patricia Ch. 14

The Degrading of Patricia -- ch 14

After several months of searching John and Patricia found an old farmhouse about an hour's drive out in the country. The house had a lot of age on it, and in need of a lot of repairs, but nothing that John couldn't do himself. Especially after getting a job with a general contractor in the county. He was learning the trades and making good money at the same time. Every day Patricia would greet him at the door when he got home from work, on her knees with collar on, awaiting his instructions for the evening. The first thing John did each time was reach for the leash hanging from the coat hook by the door and attach it to her collar. He would then lead her to the bathroom where he'd shower, forcing her to crawl on all fours as he reminded her what a worthless cunt and fucked up mother, she was to be needing this kind of treatment from her own son.

After a couple months of this routine John realized two things had happened. His first realization was that treating his mom the way she needed to be treated had desensitized him to any of his feelings towards her as his mom. He knew in his head she was his mom. But his lust for her as the sensuous woman she was had overtaken his feelings for her as his mom. The second thing he'd come to realize was they were falling into the same trap every couple that's ever-lived fall into. They had developed a routine that they just repeated every day. Not to say it was dull and he wasn't enjoying it. Far from it. He was wakened every day by his mom sucking on his cock. She would then mount him, riding him slowly as he drained her tits of milk, either sucking on them or expressing them all over the towels they kept beside the bed so it wouldn't get soaked. Her body had become merely an instrument for his amusement, enjoyment and pleasure. Which fed into his first realization.

When he got home from work each day his mom usually met him at the door wearing her collar and nothing else. Or she was so scantily clad she may as well be naked. But that's the way John liked to keep her. She'd then service his cock again before dinner, and he would drain her tits of her milk. Something he enjoyed and never tired of. Their night usually ended with some type of lovemaking. It was only his stamina as a nineteen-year-old that allowed him to keep up with his mom's sexual needs.

But what he wrestled with daily was how to humiliate and degrade her in new ways so as to feed that need within her. The law of diminishing returns was starting to take effect. Then one Friday as he was still at work it came to him. He was just going to use her for his own pleasure however he wanted. He knew how much she needed to be reminded of his love for her as her son. He smiled to himself as he thought, 'If she wants to hear me tell her I still love her as her son. She'll have to work for it.'

Then his conscience screamed out, 'What kind of a fucked-up son have I become? Blackmail my own mother to hear me tell her I love her!' Then the picture of her groveling at his feet as foreplay to their sexual union took control. He felt that stirring in his groin at the thought of her degrading herself and submitting to his every whim. Knowing that her need for it mastered her with the same all-consuming craving that a cocaine addict is controlled by that white powder. And her daily acknowledging that would be the humiliation she needed. Then he began to wonder who the addict was.

He pulled in the driveway and parked his truck on the side of the house. It was a hot, muggy day in August. He was drenched from sweat and filthy from the day's work of framing out a new house they were building. He walked up the front steps to the porch of the house, then in the front door. The air-conditioned interior was a welcomed relief. Patricia was waiting for him just inside the front door on her knees, wearing only a pair of jean shorts and her collar.

John stared down at her for several seconds. 'She really is one gorgeous, sensuous slut.' He thought to himself. He walked past her and into the living room as he spoke to her. "Follow me slut. On your knees crawling." John walked over to the couch and turned to watch his mother crawl into the room.

Patricia crawled slowly across the floor feeling a measure of humiliation, as she always did whenever he made her do this. Her huge tits hung from her chest swaying back and forth with each step. Her nipples dripping as her breasts were engorged with milk. She knew how much her son enjoyed draining her breasts of her sweet milk. During the day, and sometimes in the middle of the night, she would pump them and save the milk for selling. They'd both discovered there was a real market for breast milk. So John set her up as a milking cow for several young mothers who had difficulty producing milk for their own newborns. Patricia sat back on her legs kneeling in front of her son awaiting instructions.

"It's been a long day." He said as he towered over her. "What are you waiting for."

Patricia untied his boots and then sat back as he kicked them off. Then she reached for his belt to unbuckle it. His jeans and t-shirt were soaked from his sweat. The odor from a day's labor in the hot sun was almost unbearable for her. This routine was always anticipated by her with the hopes of hearing some kind of tenderness from her son. She had come to crave his tenderness as much as his domination. She needed both.

John pulled his t-shirt over his head as his mother peeled his jeans and shorts down his legs. He sat down on the couch, really wanting to shower first. But today he was going to do things differently. He stared at her in silence, waiting for her to do what she knew was expected of her. He would tell her about his day later, during dinner. But for now, he wanted to establish his expectations of her.

Patricia longed to hear some words of tenderness from her son. She had seen this slowly evolving over the summer months. Her son becoming harder towards her as their sexual relationship overshadowed every other aspect of their relationship. Her need to be degraded had not only changed her, but it had also changed him and how he treated her. She reached for his flaccid cock as it lay on his thigh. Her pussy throbbed as she touched it. She loved everything about the male cock. Its texture. Its softness. Its taste. The veins running through it. The fact that this cock belonged to her son only made her desire for it that much stronger.

She leaned forward, breathing in the musky odor coming from between his legs. Then she licked the length of his cock as she held it in her hand. She could taste the saltiness of his dried sweat. She bathed it with her tongue and lips till she brought it to it's full ten-inch erection. No matter how many times she did this, she always marveled at the size and beauty of her son's cock. She lowered her head and sucked in his nut-sack, repeating the process of cleaning it of all the dried sweat on it. She felt herself being carried away by her own desires as she worshipped this piece of flesh that hung from her son's body. This man who owned her.

"You need to hear me tell you I love you. Don't you slut?" John's question was cold and calculating. As he intended it to be. He was going to call her 'mom,' but then realized that is a term of tenderness. Something he wanted her to work for, from here on out.

Her mouth made a popping sound as she pulled off his nut-sack and looked up at him. The longing in her eyes spoke volumes before she spoke a word. "Yes baby." She said softly with longing in her voice. "You know I do. I love it when you tell me how much you love me. How much you want me and need me."

John leaned forward and took her face in his hand. "Then from now on, you'll have to earn that. You want that tenderness slut? Then you work for it."

Tears began to well up in Patricia's eyes. "What do you mean baby?" She knew what he meant. She just couldn't bring herself to admit it to herself.

"You know what I mean!" John slid his hand around to the back of her head and grabbed a fistful of her hair. He then yanked her head back as she gasped. "From now on, you'll degrade yourself before me slut. If I consider it adequate enough, then I'll give you what you need and want."

Patricia's tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized this was just one more step in her descent in this lifestyle she had chosen. She craved humiliation within her psyche. The deeper her son took her in her cravings, the deeper she needed to go. She knew she was probably the most fucked up woman on the face of the earth. But she never felt more alive and aroused as she did during those times she was being degraded and used for her son's pleasure. Now he was making her degrade herself. It felt like every nerve ending in her body was exploding. He knew just how to push her buttons, and he had become masterful at it. One side of her brain screamed, 'NO! DON'T DO IT!' The other side screamed louder. 'DO IT SLUT! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!'

"Oh baby! You know I'm a slut!" She sobbed softly. "Your mama is a worthless slut and whore. All I'm good for is sucking cock and being a whore for my baby."

John shoved her head down on his cock. "Suck it mom!" He said with a sarcastic tone. "That's a pretty pathetic start!" He chuckled. "But I'm sure you'll get there eventually. I know how badly you need it."

Patricia gagged when the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. But she didn't resist or try to push off. In no time her drool was running down the length of his shaft and over his balls. Her tears flowing freely as well. The shame she felt humiliating herself just to hear her son tell her he loved her was a new low point for her. He knew exactly how to manipulate her and use her. She'd felt a hardness growing within him towards her over the summer months. She knew there was nothing she could do to change that. She was the cause of it and no longer had the willpower or self-respect to change the way things had evolved between them. Especially when she'd hear him groan his approval of her sexual skills. She didn't know what she craved more. Hearing him verbalize his love for her or hearing his praise of her sexual prowess.

"Ooohhh fuck!" John groaned as he pumped her head up and down on his cock. He looked down at her. "Look at you!" He growled, feeling his orgasm building. "A fucking worthless whore sucking her son's cock! DAMN if you aren't the most fucked up slut a guy could have for a mother!"

His words hurt in a way they'd never hurt before. Yet her psyche drank it in like an alcoholic. She no longer needed it for the euphoria of the high, but to numb the pain of what she had become. Patricia sucked with a renewed vigor and enthusiasm as she cupped his nut sack with her hand and massaged it.

John's hips shot up off the couch as his orgasm slammed into him. He shot his first load of the evening into her mouth, pumping a steady stream of his seed into her eagerly sucking mouth. Patricia did her best to keep up, swallowing what she could. His cum began to ooze out around her lips and down his shaft. When John finally released her head, she pulled off quickly and licked the length of his shaft, savoring every drop of his seed that had escaped.

John sat there with head laid back enjoying his mom's oral skills and devotion to his cock as she licked his manhood clean. He looked down at her and smiled. "I do love you mom!" He chuckled. "You earned it." He saw her wince. "Now go make some dinner while I shower. But only one place setting at the table. Tonight, you'll be eating off the floor." He leaned forward and took her chin in his hand. "You want to be my bitch? Well, that's how I'm going to treat you now. Tonight, you eat off the floor like the bitch you are."

Tears streamed down Patricia's face as she watched him walk away. 'What have I done to my son?' She anguished silently to herself.

John sat down at the dinner table just as Patricia finished dishing up his dinner. "Where's your plate?" He asked with an edge to his voice.

Patricia looked at him confused. "I thought you said I wouldn't be eating at the table with you?" She asked hoping he wasn't going to force her to eat off the floor like he said. She thought she would just kneel beside his chair and hope he didn't force the issue.

John chuckled. "When I want you to think for yourself, I'll tell you. Now fix yourself a plate and bring it in." John began to eat his dinner as Patricia prepared her own plate. He took the plate from her when she reentered the dining room. Then he pointed to the floor next to his chair. "On your knees bitch!" Patricia dropped to her knees watching her son lower her plate to the floor. The wave of humiliation washing over her felt like it was going to suffocate her. John grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at him. Tears were streaming down her face. "You want my love mom?" Patricia nodded her head sobbing. "You'll do anything for it? Won't you slut?"

"Ooohhh you know I would baby!" Patricia sobbed. "Why are you doing this to me? Why?"

"Would you quit asking me that same stupid question? You know why I'm doing this to you. You crave it! You love it! You get off on it like the cheap slut you are!"

Patricia felt another barrier in her mind and will crumbling as her son taunted her with her own needs and desires. He was right, and he knew it. There was something within her that just drove her to desire being humiliated and degraded to depths she never thought possible. She slumped sobbing out loud as she resigned herself once again to her cravings.

"Eat your meal bitch!" He said with no emotion as he pushed her head down until he was shoving her face into her plate. He returned to eating his meal as Patricia began to lap up her meal from the plate. She had made lasagna for dinner that evening, not knowing this was going to be her fate. In no time her face was covered in tomato sauce as she attempted to pick up the noodles with her teeth and chew on them. The whole-time sobbing, her tears and snot dripping onto the plate.

When John finished his dinner, he sat back and looked down at his mom. Her plate had tomato sauce and noodles spread out all over it. He lifted her head with a fistful of her hair. The look on her face caused him to burst out in laughter. He pulled his phone out of the pocket in his gym shorts and snapped a picture of her. "You look like some little kid who's learning how to feed herself and doing a lousy job of it." Then he got serious. "I'll never understand your need for this. But then again, I guess I don't have to understand it. It's you. It's who you are. It's what you are." He stood up from the table. "Clean yourself up. Then clean up dinner. I'll be in the living room watching some baseball. I'll have your tits for dessert. Don't keep me waiting." He said as he walked away.

John was surfing through the channels when his mom came crawling into the living room, her head hanging in shame, her tits swaying from side to side. His desire for her growing as she made her way across the floor. The deeper he drove her in her own lust driven need for being degraded, the deeper his lust for her became.

Patricia sat back on her legs as she knelt in front of John. The shame of what she had become kept her head hanging, not wanting to look her son in the eye. Yet in spite of that overwhelming sense of shame she felt that need within her for her son's touch, the feel of his throbbing cock inside her. John was about to give her exactly what she needed.

He looked down at her, that feeling in his groin beginning to stir. 'Fuck it!' He thought to himself. 'I don't care what she needs right now. I know what I need.' He lifted his hips and pulled his gym shorts down, then kicked them across the floor. Patricia raised her head enough to look at his manhood. "You want it mom. Don't you?"

Patricia didn't take her eyes off his hardening cock as she replied. "You know I do baby. I'm just a slut for your cock." She reached for it, then began a soft stroking of it, bringing it to full hardness as John just watched her. Her longings and desires took control. She leaned forward and slid her mouth over the head, then took as much of his ten inches in her mouth as she could, purring like a cat as it filled her mouth. Then slowly pulled her mouth off, savoring the feel of the throbbing veins, then the rim of the helmet. She looked up at her son. "I am a whore for this! I admit it. I can't help myself. Your cock. You. All of it. What you did to me in the dining room. As humiliating as that was... I can't explain it. I know I'm fucked up. But I don't care anymore. I can't explain it."

"You don't have to." John reached down and stroked her face softly. "Get up here."

Patricia stood, then straddled his lap. John held his full erection in his hand. She started to lower herself on it, the need in her driving her. "Stop!" John commanded her as he reached for one of her tits with his other hand. He began stroking the length of her slit and clit with the head of his cock as he squeezed her tit with his other hand.

Patricia let out a guttural moan as she laid her hands on her son's shoulders to steady herself. "Oh, please baby! Don't tease me! I'm just a whore for your cock! And I need it! Please!"

John chuckled. "You horny slut. I'll do what I damn well please with you! And you'll take every bit of it!"

Patricia smiled at him for the first time that day. "I know baby. And I love it. Your mama is such a whore for her baby's cock." She leaned into his hand. "Milk my tits baby. I'm just your fucking cow." Her body shook as John used the head of his cock to stroke her swelling clit. After a minute or so he positioned the head at the opening to her womb and pulled her down filling her with his manhood. "Oh fuck!" Patricia moaned, her body shuddering as she collapsed into his chest. She never felt more complete than she did at these times when their bodies were joined as one. No man before John had ever made her feel this way. It no longer mattered to her that everything in society screamed against the union she shared with her son. All she knew was her son had fulfilled a need within her that no man before him had even come close to touching. She began to grind her hips, trying to get more of his manhood inside her.

John wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. "You're fucking your son's cock you dirty whore." He whispered in her ear. "Do you know what that makes you?"

Patricia raked her nails across his upper back and shoulders. "I know baby." She whispered back, then moaned as he pushed her down even harder, grinding his cock inside her. "I'm a filthy slut of a mother. But I don't care anymore! Fuck me baby! Fuck your whore mother!"

John pulled her away from his body, lifted one of her tits and began to suck on it with a passion that sent Patricia into an orgasmic frenzy. "OH FUCK!" She screamed loud enough to be heard outside. Her body convulsed and shook as John kept his mouth clamped on her tit and his cock embedded in her pussy. His teeth and lips sent shock waves through her body, like an electrical shock, as he worked her nipple. The sensations became so intense for Patricia she began to sob as she chanted, "Oh fuck! Oh fuck," over and over as she ground her hips in a circular motion.

John felt her juices flowing down his shaft and drenching his balls. It felt as though a faucet had been turned on. He knew he'd be climaxing himself if his mom hadn't drained him just before dinner. He loved these times when he could last as he drove her through multiple orgasms. And that's exactly what he was going to do. Patricia continued to sob and shake as her body began to descend from her sexual high. But John wasn't finished with her yet. He pulled off her tit and reached around her, smacking her ass a couple times as hard as he could. "I didn't tell you to stop slut! Work that pussy!"